Error
by Darth Rio
Summary: A batch of clones comes out with brown hair. The kaminoans decide to put them in battle to see who would survive, rather than just reconditioning all of them. This is the beginning of Stealth's story.
1. Chapter 1

Seo Wat scanned the datasheet quickly. It gave specific instructions to recondition clone batch three-one-eight. Seo Wat felt a pang of guilt as she calculated the age of the clones and realised that they were only eight years old. She read farther down the page, looking for the specific reason for their reconditioning. She found the information she was looking for at the bottom of the page in small print, off to the side as if it weren't important to have reason to kill one hundred eight-year-old boys. Seo Wat was taken aback when she read the reason that reconditioning had been ordered.

All of the clones had brown hair.

Seo Wat caught the attention of Taun We and held up the datasheet. "I think there's a mistake," she pointed out.

Taun We looked up from her station and glided over. Mistakes could not be tolerated. "What is the problem?" she asked.

"Batch three one eight has been ordered for reconditioning."

Taun We nodded. "There was an error in their genetic code."

"But the error was purely cosmetic," Seo Wat protested timidly. "Must they be recontitioned because of appearance? It won't hamper their ability in battle--"

"We don't know that," Taun We said, returning to her station. "If there was one error in their coding, we don't know if there are any more. They are too unpredictable."

"Have there been any problems with any of the clones?"

Taun We slapped her datapad down on the desk in front of her. "None that we've observed," she said condescendingly, "but we can't risk them going rogue in the middle of a battle. Now let that be the end of it."

Seo Wat lowered her head and took the hint to drop the matter, for now, at least.

Lama Su sat up as Seo Wat burst into the room. The Prime Minister fixed her with a look that said he did not approve her haste. Taun We rushed in behind Seo Wat, looking as if she'd been chasing the younger scientist across Kamino.

"What is the meaning of this?" Lama Su demanded.

"I came to petition for the lives of batch three-one-eight," Seo Wat said quickly, panting.

Lama Su blinked in surprise and looked questioningly at Taun We.

"Three-one-eight is damaged," Taun We explained. "They are to be reconditioned tomorrow. Seo Wat thinks the error is _excusable_."

"The error is purely cosmetic," Seo Wat said. "They meet the standard on everything else, except that their hair is a different color. If we recondition this batch, we waste a hundred good clones, and that's a waste of resources."

That caught Lama Su's attention. He wouldn't tolerate anything less than perfect efficiency. Taun We opened her mouth to speak, but Lama Su raised one hand and cut her off. "Alright, cancel the reconditioning. But I want proof that they will function as well as the other units. Set up a live fire trainning scenario."

Taun We squeaked. "I don't think we should be devoting time and resources to this," she said. "We can't waste our time testing an already faulty batch of clones. We should just grow another that we know will be up to specifications."

Lama Su seemed to be swayed by Taun We's statement. "What would you recommend, then?"

"They should be reconditioned. They are flawed, and should be disposed of."

Seo Wat cut in. "What if we sent them off to battle? If we just dropped them on a hostile planet and let them fight. We wouldn't have to spend our own time testing them, and we'd know that the survivors would do well in the upcoming war."

Lama Su let out a hissing sound, warning Seo Wat not to talk about the war. But what she said made sense to him. "Prep three-one-eight for deployment. I will contact Sifo Dyas and have him send a company of battle droids out to a nearby location. Taun We, I'll contact you when I have the information. In the mean time, find weapons and armour for the units. Do not inform them of the battle. Let them be ambushed. We'll pick up the survivors at the end of the day."

Taun We grudgingly nodded and left to make the arrangements.

Seo Wat stood silent for a moment, thinking about what had been decided. She was beginning to wonder if reconditioning would have been a better fate.


	2. Chapter 2

Det looked down at his new leather gloves. They had been hastily sewn to his size. The white plastic gauntlet he wore was sawn off near the elbow to accommodate his shorter arms. He didn't have standard issue boots, only the light soled shoes he wore around Kamino. The sole had been reinforced with tough aiwha skin leather. He carefully pulled the DC-15 blaster from his pack on the floor and checked to make sure the safety was on. Then he gently pulled the blaster apart and started to clean it.

Stealth leaned over and prodded his brother in the ribs. "That's the third time you've cleaned that thing, Det."

"Are we there yet?" Det asked. "I thought this planet was close."

"It is," Stealth answered, "and you should be glad. If this assignment had been on the other side of the galaxy, it would have taken a couple of days. You can sit still for an hour or two."

Det fit the blaster together and placed it back in the pack. He sighed. "What are we going to Tatooine for?"

Stealth looked troubled. "I don't know. They wouldn't tell me. No one's said anything about why we're going."

"How are we supposed to be effective if we don't have any intel?"

Savage came bounding through the hatch, knocking his head on a red pipe as he did so. He winced and held his forehead as he plopped down on the bench next to Det. "We don't have any intel?"

Det shook his head.

"Then do what I do. Blow things up randomly and hope you hit something sensitive."

"I thought I was supposed to stay away from detonators," Det said. "I set things on fire."

"And melt my micro-cord camera with only one measly detonator, and make me lose an eyebrow. That's why we give you the sniper rifle and not the explosives, _ner vod_," Savage said, grinning.

Det looked down at the sniper rifle laying across the floor. "But how am I useful if I don't have a target to shoot at? No intel, no targets..."

Stealth leaned forward. "Alright, Det. You'll be in situations like these a lot more often than you will be comfortable with. In general, you will be told the bare minimum before you're sent out to battle. There's more going on here than we know about, and no one will tell us because we're units, and of no significant importance. When you have no intel, it's best to sneak in and retrieve your own."

Det scuffed his feet across the floor. "But I'm not stealthy like you."

Savage gently thwacked Det over the head. "That's your other problem. You're always so afraid of everything! Don't be afraid to be bold, to say what's on your mind."

Stealth rolled his eyes. "But don't be too much like Savage, you'll get on someone's nerves and wind up shot in the head by friendly fire." Stealth scratched his beard. "But a little more boldness couldn't hurt."

Det blushed. "But I'm always afraid of saying the wrong thing."

Savage shook his head. "Don't be afraid of anything."

Det nodded, hoping to direct the conversation away from his flaws. He glanced up to see Stealth craning his neck to see out the front window. "We're here, boys," Stealth said. "Be ready for anything."


	3. Chapter 3

Det stepped out onto the ramp and was immediately blinded by Tatooine's twin suns. He was surprised at how warm they made the planet. There was a dry breeze blowing sand into his face, much different than the gales and torrents of rain back home. He walked down the ramp and paused a moment before stepping into the sand. His foot sank down into it slightly, cushioning his step. It was very different from the durasteel halls of Kamino.

"Are you coming, or are you planning on staying there and scrapbooking?" Savage asked.

Det looked up and blinked. "But don't you notice the sand? It's so springy..."

Savage looked out over the vast desert. "I'm just wondering what would happen if I put a thermal detonator under a few feet of sand. What do you think that would do? Or maybe I could see how much explosives it would take to blow up a duracreet truck. Or maybe I could see if I could strap a rocket to a speeder and launch it into those hills."

Stealth stepped between Det and Savage and gripped them both by the shoulder. "_Vode_? We're on a brand new planet with no intel, armour that protect a Gungan, and enough ammo to make a decent sized crater. Would you mind not standing around with your mouths open? You can blog about it when you get home."

"Yessir," Det said, trying not to pay attention to the sand beneath his feet.

Stealth looked slightly unnerved as he habitually scanned the horizon.

"Something wrong?" Savage asked.

Stealth shrugged. "I'm just wondering why they only sent _us _out here."

Savage looked confused.

"You know," Stealth said, pinching a bit of brown hair between his fingers, "_us_."

Savage chuckled. "More of your conspiracy theories?" Savage held his hand up to his chin, imitating Stealth's beard. "I'm Stealth, and I think the Kaminoans are out to get me!" he mocked.

Stealth rolled his eyes. "You're very mature."

"I'm eight. What do you expect?"

The three boys followed their ninety seven brothers out into the desert. Sand kicked up into their faces as the ten LAATs lifted into the air. Stealth turned around and watched them disappear. "Where do you think they're going?"

"Back to the mothership where they can monitor the chip they put in your brain," Savage answered. "They're mind controlling you. They _want_ you to have paranoid delusions."

Det smiled to himself as he watched his brothers argue back and forth.

"I'm not paranoid," Stealth insisted. "Haven't you noticed anything strange about this whole mission? No debrief, no intel, no reason for coming out here. Technically, we shouldn't even be allowed outside Kamino until the war starts."

Det made a shushing sound. "Sir, we're not supposed to--"

Stealth held up a hand. "There's another thing. How do we know there's going to be a war? We've been training for this for our entire lives. You can't predict a war that far into the future. And the simulations? In all of them, we're fighting droids. We're always studying their attack protocols, learning how to best kill them... don't you think they should have us practising against all sorts of enemies? How do they know we'll be fighting droids?"

"Maybe they have wire pyramids they wear on their heads that give them psychic powers," Savage replied.

Det found himself laughing at Savage's comment, but wondered if Stealth was right. Things they'd been taught did seem a little strange if you thought about them. But it was the thinking that got you killed. Det admired Savage for the way he could plan for every possible event, yet in the heat of battle, he acted entirely on instinct. Most times, things didn't go according to plan. Det also admired Stealth for the way he could analyse things. He didn't simply swallow what was fed to him; he questioned everything. He was always aware when someone was lying to him, and rather than calling their bluff, he would use it to his advantage to find out what they were hiding. He would have been a valuable addition to the black ops, if it weren't for the genetic error.

Det jerked his thoughts back to what he was doing. Stealth was throwing a few rude gestures at Savage, who was happily dancing circles around Stealth.

"You're in love with Taun We!" Savage sang. "You think she's beautiful!"

"That's disgusting," Stealth said. "I'd sooner eat her liver with a nice Chianti and some fava--"

Stealth didn't get to finish his thought. Det was suddenly hurled onto his back by the shockwave from a nearby explosion. He sprang to his feet and grabbed his DC-15. He scanned the desert for the enemy, but saw no one except his brothers. Then, appearing on top of a massive sand dune was a lone droid grenadier. Det was frozen by both fear and fascination as the droid launched another thermal detonator from its cylindrical right arm.

"Det!" Stealth shouted. "Open fire!"

Det raised his deece and aimed at the single red eye on the droid's chestplate as he'd done a thousand times in training. He let out his breath and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. He stopped to examine the rifle. One of the clones had landed a solid shot, and the droid dropped.

Savage jogged up to Det. "The safety's still on, _dinii_," he scolded. "Keep your head in what you're doing."

Det winced and reprimanded himself for forgetting something so obvious. He flipped the switch on the deece and was about to apologise when one of the clones shouted out to the others.

"Droids!"

They all looked up at the sand dune where the clone was standing. He was shooting at an unseen enemy that was advancing from behind the dune. With a scream, he took a shot to the head and fell tumbling down the slope. Then the droids appeared. There must have been a hundred and fifty of them coming over the dune. There was a moment where everyone froze, stunned to be seeing their first real enemy. Savage was the first to gather his wits about him, and launched an ECD grenade into the midst of the droids. Then everyone opened fire at the same moment.

Det scrambled to move to a place where he could get a clear shot. The other clones were crowding around into a group to shoot at the incoming droids, but everything was so uncoordinated. They had never been taught to fight in groups of one hundred. Det knew exactly what his role would be on a four man squad, but in a large company of one hundred, he was completely lost. A few of the clones had tried to establish some sort of chain of command, but they all had been shot down the moment they looked away.

A shot rang out from behind Det. He turned to see where it had come from. Part of the company of droids had broken off and was attempting to flank them. Det swung his rifle around and fired a few shots into the midst of the droids.

Stealth suddenly appeared next to Det, taking out a few of the droids.

"How did they know we'd be here?" Det shouted over the din of battle.

"How do you think?" Stealth answered.

Det chose not to entertain that thought at the moment. There was too much going on to ponder why the Kaminoans would send tem out to die. Clones were falling left and right while the droids kept advancing.

Det checked to see if he could find Savage in the fray. He spotted his brother using the sidearm sporadically between lobbing grenades at the droids. He had used up the last of his ECDs and had moved on to thermal detonators. He was trying desperately to keep them at a safe distance from the other clones, but in doing so had lessened the damage he was doing to the droids.

"Det, watch what you're doing!" Stealth barked.

Det fired at another droid, missing the center eye. His bolt just deflected off the droid's outer casing.

Savage rushed back to the rear of the sloppy formation to help Det and Stealth take out the droids that were trying to flank them. He was entirely out of grenades and deece ammo now, and had only his sidearm. He knelt down and carefully aimed at the center eye on a droid, firing three quick rounds and felling it. He took a shot at another droid before his sidearm overheated.

"Savage, fall back!" Stealth ordered.

"No, sir!" Savage yelled back, tossing aside his sidearm and grabbing his custom made vibroblade off his belt. With a loud shout, he rushed straight at the droids.

"_Dinii_ !" Stealth hissed, rushing after him.

The droids seemed to be thinning out now. Most of them were laying in heaps of scrap now. But the ones that remained seemed to be getting the upper hand, and Savage seemed to want to take them all out on his own.

Savage managed to jab his vibroblade in the circuitboard of one droid before a blaster bolt caught him in the leg. Det barely had time to shout his brother's name before another bolt struck Savage at the base of his skull. He slumped forward, motionless.

Det could only watch in horror as Stealth rushed to Savage's side, plowing through any droids that got in his way. A quick glance around showed Det his worst fear. Only about thirty clones remained.

The droids seemed to register that Stealth was a threat. A few of them surrounded him, levelling their blasters at his head, which had no armour at all.

There was an explosion near Det. It threw him off his feet. The plastic armor on his right shoulder had caved in, putting pressure on his right shoulder. Det's ears were ringing from the explosion. He scrambled around, trying to find his blaster. But then his head started to feel light and his vision warped. The ringing in his ears got steadily worse. He tried to get up, but must have tripped over something, because he found himself face first in the sand. He tried to push himself up again, but the bent armour prevented him from doing so. He reached over and ripped the damaged shoulder plate off and tossed it aside. Det felt like he would lose consciousness at any moment. He lifted his head as much as he could.

Stealth was on his knees, surrounded by a large group of droids. There was a smoking hole in his chest armour. With one final act, he thumbed the switch on his last thermal detonator.

The last thing Det saw was a bright explosion, the sound muffled by his ringing ears. Then everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

Det opened his eyes and squinted at the midday suns. His head was pounding and he could hear the blood rushing through his ears. He pushed himself up onto his elbows. Everything spun for a moment. It took a minute before Det felt well enough to get up. He stood and surveyed the area with a look of horror.

There was nothing but the bodies of fallen clone troopers as far as the eye could see. In between them were scraps of droids. In the end, no droids were left functioning. But at what price?

"Hello?" Det called out weakly.

Det caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. A clone with long hair and a scraggly beard was picking his way through the battlefield, checking every clone for any sign of life. Judging by the look on his face, he hadn't found any yet.

Det cleared his throat and shouted again, trying to project his voice. This time the clone took notice. He looked up, saw Det sitting up, then rushed over. "You're alive!"

"Seems like it," Det said. "You... haven't found anyone else?"

The clone shook his head. "I've checked almost everyone. So far, you and I are the only ones left breathing. How'd you survive, anyway? You don't look like much of a fighter."

Det pursed his lips. "I blacked out, I guess. Don't know what happened. There was an explosion, my armour bent, then I just couldn't stand after that...."

"Shoulder plate?" the clone asked, pointing out Det's lack of shoulder armour. "There's veins there that carry blood to your brain. Guess the bent armour cut off your circulation. Simple as that."

Det rubbed his sore head. "So... you're sure you didn't find anyone else...." he trailed off.

"No one else," the clone said. "If you had brothers, they're dead now. Everyone's dead but you and me. 'course, I haven't checked everyone yet. You feel well enough to help me check to see who didn't end up as cannon fodder?"

Det made a face at the clone's insensitivity.

"No? Alright. I'll start looking by myself, then. What's your name?"

"Det..."

"I'm Wookiee. Shout if you think you're going to bleed to death or faint or something else equally unhelpful."

Wookiee stood and wandered off to check the bodies of the other troopers, though he didn't look too optimistic.

Det nervously scanned the battlefield. He felt completely useless. He'd done nothing to help in the battle, and certainly hadn't been there when his brothers needed him. He wondered if he would have been able to do anything even if he hadn't blacked out. Like Wookiee said, he didn't seem like much of a fighter. Det glanced over his shoulder at the faces scattered around. He wondered what Stealth would be doing at the moment.

Wookiee was knelt down next to a fallen trooper. He seemed to be saying something in another language. Det assumed it was Mandalorian. Wookiee reached down and shut the troopers eyes, then stood and moved on to the next one.

Without realising what he was doing, Det stood up and started walking through the sand. He had to find Stealth and Savage. He carefully picked his way between the bodies of the clones, trying not to disturb them. Det stopped suddenly and scanned the faces, unsure whether he'd be able to recognize them. He turned the troopers onto their backs, looking for any sign that one of them was one of his brothers. After inspecting a little over a dozen troops, he found Savage by the custom knife he had in his hand. It was a standard vibroblade with little notches cut out of the edge and welded back onto the flat surface of the blade. The result was a multi edged saw. On the grip, Savage had etched the words "darasuum kote".

Eternal glory. It was one of the few Mandalorian phrases he knew. Det tucked the blade into his belt. He shut Savage 's eyes. Back in training, he'd heard Sergeant Vau say a Mandalorian phrase to honour the dead, but try as he might, Det couldn't remember it.

Det arranged Savage's arms across his chest so he could find him again when the LAATs came back. He stood up and went to find Stealth. Not too many paces off, Det saw a small crater blown into the sand. A large number of droids had been taken out in the blast, most likely evening the odds and ensuring that the battle was won.

Det looked up and glanced over the field of bodies. If this was victory, he was sure he never wanted to see defeat.

There was no sign of Stealth inside the crater. He and any nearby droids had been instantly vaporized in the explosion.

Det sank to his knees. He didn't understand self-sacrifice. What good was saving someone if you weren't around to see the result? Stealth hadn't known if his sacrifice would be worth anything. Maybe Stealth was too noble for his own good. Or maybe Det just wasn't noble enough. He shook his head at himself. Stealth and Savage were right. He was always afraid. He needed to stand up and do what was right, not cower in the corner like some pup. What would Stealth be doing at the moment?

He'd be helping someone. Det was sure of that.

Det stood up and spotted Wookiee. He made his way over to him.

"Decided to help?" Wookiee asked.

Det nodded. "Figured it's better to be up and looking rather than sitting around and sulking."

"Did you find anyone you know?"

"My two brothers. They're both dead."

Wookiee shrugged. "Told you. We're the only ones left. Everyone else ended up cannon fodder. Your brothers, and mine. Were your brothers shot, knifed, or blown up?"

Det's fist tightened instinctively. "Are you always this blunt?"

"Yep," Wookiee answered simply.

The two continued silently moving through the battlefield, checking each man for a pulse. Det couldn't help but wonder who they had been. These men had all been his brothers, yet he didn't know any of them. He hadn't known anyone but Stealth and Savage. Feeling a pang of guilt, Det swore that he would get to know as many of his brothers as he could. He didn't want anyone else dying nameless.

"What was your brother's name?" Det asked.

"Chase", Wookiee answered, crouching next to a clone and checking for a pulse. "He was scared. I told him everything would be alright."

Det took a moment to answer, unsure of what to say. "I'm sure you did everything you could to protect him."

"I lost track of him," Wookiee said. "Too busy taking out droids. I didn't even notice he had been shot until after all the droids were scrapped."

"You took out the last of them, then?"

Wookiee shrugged. "No one else was concious to do it. I just batted cleanup."

Det spun on his heel as he heard a sound behind him. He noticed a clone writhing in pain. Det and Wookiee ran to his side. There was bits of shrapnel protruding from the clone's left leg. Det lifted the clone's head off the ground.

"Hey, looks like we have a survivor," he said gently. "What's your name?"

"CT-956," he answered between gasps of pain. "My leg hurts..."

Wookiee tossed aside his armour plates and ripped off one sleeve, tying it around Five-Six's leg to stop the bleeding. He pulled a single dose of bacta from his belt and placed a few drops on the worst of the wounds.

"Looks like you took a bit of damage. Can you tell me what happened?" Det asked, trying to keep Five-Six talking.

"My brother... he charged a droid and shot him point blank. Guess he hit something critical. The thing just exploded." Five-Six coughed. "Heh.... idiot."

"Well it looks like you'll be fine," Wookiee said. "Your leg seems to be the only serious damage. It might be infected, so I'm going to clean out the wound. This will sting a little, alright? Try not to scream."

Five-Six chuckled. "Can't hurt worse than it does now."

Det patted Five-Six on the shoulder. He glanced up at Wookiee. "Can you handle this? I'm going to keep looking."

Wookiee nodded. "I can jab a needle in this guy's leg without you. Pretty easy. Just point and stab. Like shredding droids, but with less oil mess."

Det stood up and roamed around the field, but it didn't look like anyone else was alive. Det wondered how so much damage could have been done in so little time.

"Who are you?" a voice said.

Det turned in the direction the voice had come from. A clone was hiding behind several bodies, hugging his knees to his chest and cradling his Deece. He had a wild look in his eyes.

"It's alright," Det said, holding a hand up, "I'm a friend."

The clone pointed his Deece at Det. "Stay back..." he warned.

Det saw the clone's hands trembling. "The battle's over," he said. "All the droids are scrap."

The clone shook his head. "There's more coming, I know it..."

"There's none," Det said. "We got them all. You can put down the blaster, now."

The clone wavered for a moment.

Det pressed his advantage. "Who are you?"

"CT-427," the clone answered.

"Do you have a name?"

The clone shook his head. "Just Two-Seven."

"Two-Seven, all the droids are gone," Det said. He pointed over at Wookiee. "See him? He killed the last of them. Trust me, none of these droids are going to reactivate."

Two-Seven considered the words for a moment, then cautiously lowered his blaster, never taking his finger off the trigger. Det breathed a sigh of relief. "You'll be alright, brother," he said.

The LAATs returned an hour or so later. Det's search hadn't yielded any more results. Out of one hundred clones sent out to battle, only four were still alive. Det, Wookiee, Five-Six, and Two-Seven were loaded into a single LAAT. The bodies of the other clones were packed into the other transports unceremoniously. The droids were packed away to be used for scrap metal. Then they began the long journey back to Kamino.

Wookiee sat on the floor looking after Five-Six, who was in a much stabler condition. The bacta was already healing his wounds. Two-Seven sat in the corner of the ship, still clutching his blaster. Det stood leaning against the viewscreen, watching Tatooine disappear from view.

"It doesn't make sense," Det mused.

"What doesn't?" Wookiee asked.

"That battle. Why were we fighting the droids?"

"Survival of the fittest," Five-Six said, chiming in. "The Kaminoans sent us out there to see who would come back."

Five-Six noticed the quizzical glances he was getting. "Think about it. We're 'flawed'. So why not send us to see who would survive? Anyone who came back must be good enough to be in the Grand Army. Think like a Kaminoan. Doesn't it make sense?"

"They wanted us to die?" Two-Seven asked.

"Probably," Five-Six said. "It's just good business."


	5. Chapter 5

The LAAT landed on Kamino a few long hours later. A few clones came out to the ship with a stretcher for Five-Six. Wookiee ran beside the stretcher, trying to shield Five-Six from the rain as they took him inside Kamino. Det followed along behind, leading Two-Seven out. Two-Seven nervously watched any movements, still refusing to put down his rifle.

"Do you think they really wanted us dead?" he asked.

Det shushed him. "Don't talk about that here."

"But would they really send us out to a battle they knew we couldn't win?"

Det glanced around subtly to make sure no one else was hearing the conversation. "I don't know. But I'm certainly going to find out. Now, please, don't mention this again."

It was a few days before Five-Six was cleared to leave the infirmary. Wookiee hadn't seen him or any of the others around since the battle, but he wasn't really looking, either. He hadn't much felt like talking about it, and was pretty sure that he'd have Kaminoans breathing down his back if he mentioned anything about it.

Wookiee took his tray of food over to an empty table and sat down. He made a face at the smell of the 'meat substitute', whatever that meant. It had all the nutrients he needed, but no flavour to speak of. It was exactly like ration cubes, only less dense, and more mushy. Reluctantly, Wookiee jabbed his fork into it and took a bite. He wondered why the Kaminoans couldn't buy one nerf and clone it a few million times. There would be enough nerf burgers to feed the entire army, plus a few outer rim worlds. But of course, that would take charity work from the Kaminoans, and that simply wasn't in their nature.

Wookiee glanced over at the table next to his. There were a dozen heads, all with the same haircut, except for one of them, whose brown hair stood out like a glow sign. Angling his head so he could see better, Wookiee noticed that it was Five-Six. He seemed to be telling a story that had the other clones' undivided attention. Curiosity overtook Wookiee, and he stood to see what the fuss was about.

"That's the reason they know about the war!" Five-Six was saying in a hushed tone. "They know we'll be fighting droids, they know when, and they're in contact with the leader of the droid army. They're sending us to our deaths for no reason at all!"

"What's this about?" Wookiee asked.

"The Kaminoans," one of the clones answered. "Five-Six says the war is just a big conspiracy."

Wookiee rolled his eyes. "Oh, _that_ again."

"Yes, _that_ again," Five-Six spat. "But this time we've got evidence. While I was in the infirmary--"

"Five-Six!" a clone shouted from the next table. Wookiee looked up and saw Det approaching.

"What are you doing?" Det asked.

"I'm telling them what they need to know," Five-Six insisted.

Det grabbed Five-Six's arm and pulled him away from the table. "Not yet!" Det hissed. "We need to find out how high this goes before we can start spreading this around."

"They're sending us to our deaths, and you want me to keep quiet?" Five-Six shouted a little too loud. Det unsuccessfully tried to shush him. All the clones presently in the mess hall turned to look, but Five-Six kept going. "My brothers died in front of me! And as I recall, so did yours. I hate the Kaminoans for sending us out there to die just so they could weed out the weak ones. Now we find out they're doing the same thing to the rest of our brothers? I can't just sit here until we have the proper evidence, they need to know now!"

Five-Six wrenched his arm out of Det's grip and stormed out of the mess hall.

Everyone resumed eating, as if this sort of outburst happened all the time. Det sat down at Wookiee's empty table and let out an exasperated grunt.

Wookiee sat down across from Det. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing," Det said. "Just a difference of opinions."

Wookiee reached over and grabbed a handful of meat-substitute and popped it in his mouth. "And this conspiracy?"

Det gave Wookiee a warning look. "He wasn't supposed to say that. Just forget you heard anything. I don't want anyone getting in trouble over this."

Five-Six trudged through the hall, still steaming after his outburst. He didn't understand all the secrets. The Kaminoans were keeping the reasons behind the war secret, and just when he and Det were beginning to uncover those secrets, Det insisted they not say anything until the time was right. Five-Six especially didn't understand the last part. Why keep the secret if more clones would get hurt?

Five-Six passed by an unused lab. All the lights were off, plunging everything past the doorway into complete darkness.

"Five-Six?" called a thin voice. "Five-Six?"

Part of him warned him to run, and that going in to a dark room alone could never be a good thing, but the other part wanted to go see who was calling him. In the end, he couldn't suppress his curiosity. He stepped through the door and started fumbling around for the light control. He had his thumb on the switch when a long grey arm snaked through the darkness and grabbed him by the throat.


	6. Chapter 6

"Number?" Seo Wat asked as Det was heading into the sims for target practice.

"CT-8208," he answered.

Seo Wat glanced up as if to check for visual confirmation. Her eyes rested on Det's brown hair. "Sorry. You've been tagged for observation. I can't let you into the simulations today."

"Tagged?" Det asked, confused. "Tagged for what?" It only took him a moment to realise that it was because of Five-Six's earlier outburst.

"Please go back to your quarters," Seo Wat said, ignoring Det's question.

Det turned on his heel and went in the opposite direction. He passed Wookiee in the hall. Wookiee looked up, ready to give Det a casual salute.

"We may have a problem," Det said, cutting Wookiee off, but never slowing his stride.

Wookiee stopped and watched Det walk off, feeling confused. He jogged to catch up. "Who has a problem?"

"Me and Five-Six," Det answered, stopping at a computer terminal. "Remember what we were talking about in the mess hall? I wouldn't repeat it."

Det keyed in his number for access to the terminal, but it buzzed, stating that it couldn't let him into the system. Wookiee stepped in and keyed in his own number. The terminal gave him access.

"What am I looking for?" Wookiee asked.

"Look me up. I want to see something."

Wookiee keyed in the numbers. "Here. You're red flagged. It doesn't say anything about why you're being watched or what for."

Det ran a finger along his bottom lip, deep in thought. "Search you, Two-Seven, and Five-Six."

Wookiee keyed in his number first, which didn't show anything out of the ordinary. Next he searched Two-Seven. He had been blue flagged, which meant that he was being observed, but not restricted from anything.

"Well, this is strange..."

Det glanced at Wookiee, trying to read his features. "What's that?"

Wookiee tried the search again. "Five-Six isn't in the database."

Det suddenly had a horrible thought. Without another word, he took off at full speed down the hall. He headed toward the sims, hoping he'd run into one of the Cuy'val Dar training a squad. Seo Wat was still guarding the door, though, and wouldn't even let him look inside the sims. She was equally uncooperative when Det asked about Five-Six. Det tossed Seo Wat a rude gesture that made her blush. He turned and took off down the hall, then came to the corner that led to the Cuy'val Dar's quarters. Det was just rounding the corner, when--

_THWACK_

--he ran face-first into a man in the sand-gold armour. Both men fell over onto the floor.

"Sergeant Skirata!" Det exclaimed helping the man to his feet.

"Decaf is in the orange pot, son," Skirata said, brushing off his armour.

"Sir, I need your help," Det said hurridly. "My brother and I found out something we shouldn't have, and now I've been red flagged, and he's missing from the database. The Kaminoans won't talk to me, and I need someone to find out what's happened to him."

Skirata nodded. "Alright. Let's go find Ko Sai. She'll know of anything recent. Calm down, we'll find your brother."

Det struggled to catch his breath as he followed Sergeant Skirata to Ko Sai's lab. They found Ko Sai hunched over a test tube, marking down some numbers. She looked up at the two men invading her lab with a condescending look. "Can I help you with something?" she asked in a tone that said she had no intention of leaving her work.

"I'm looking for a certain clone," Skirata said.

Ko Sai looked back down at her work and continued marking down numbers. "Did you look near the food? It seems to be the only thing that holds their interests."

Det took a step forward, but Skirata held out his arm to keep him back.

"He's not in the database."

Ko Sai did not seem interested at all. "Then the unit doesn't exist."

Det gritted his teeth. "I was just talking to him this morning."

"Then it has been reconditioned."

Skirata had to use a little more muscle to keep Det back this time. He gritted his teeth. "Check on that."

Ko Sai's nose twitched, the only sign of annoyance she was willing to give. But she cooperated. She took a few more measurements before picking up a datapad and typing in a few commands. "What was the units number?"

"CT-956," Det answered.

Ko Sai scanned the datapad. "Hm. Yes, here. Nine-Five-Six, terminated a few hours ago."

She placed the datapad back down and resumed her work, obviously done helping the intruders.

"Why was he terminated?" Det demanded.

"The unit was flawed," Ko Sai said offhandedly.

Det jumped forward and cursed. Ko Sai glanced up from her work and fixed Det with a look, taking notice of him for the first time. Skirata grabbed Det and hauled him out of the lab, but it wasn't an easy task. Det seemed determined to shove a knife in Ko Sai's slender neck. Skirata managed to get Det out into the hall and jabbed the door control with his elbow.

"Ke'gev!" he commanded. Det didn't know what that meant, but the man's tone made him stop struggling.

"You said you've been red flagged, son," Skirata said, "so I'd keep my temper down if I were you. I don't want to see you on the terminated list with your brother. Now, go down to the mess hall, get something hot to drink, and let me handle Ko Sai."

Det wanted to argue, but decided against it. He reluctantly saluted. "Thank you, Sergeant," he said, sounding defeated.

"Kih'parjai," was the answer. Det looked a little confused. "It means 'don't mention it'," Skirata clarified.

Det nodded his thanks, then turned and trudged down the hall. Behind him, he heard the door to Ko Sai's lab hiss open, followed by a crash, then a string of Mandalorian words that Det was sure he didn't want to know the meaning of.

Det plopped down on the seat across from Wookiee. "Reconditioned," he said grimly.

Wookiee blinked. "As in..."

"Terminated."

Wookiee's shoulders slumped.

Det looked distant. "I have to do something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know!" Det exclaimed. "Something. Stealth would have done something. He would have known exactly what to do. And what have I done to make things better?"

He trailed off. Wookiee raised an eyebrow. "Nothing?" he ventured.

Det nodded. "Exactly. I need to go do something." He stood and turned to leave.

"Like what?" Wookiee called after him.

"I don't know."

"A name?" Seo Wat repeated, as close to confused as a Kaminoan could sound.

Det nodded. "I know you lot have already got rid of the body, so a funeral is out of the question. But I would like him to be recorded in the database as KIA, and with a name."

Seo Wat shook her head. "But," she stuttered, "I can't do that."

"Look," Det reasoned. "As far as you lot are concerned, he doesn't exist anymore and never did, right? So no one will have a need to look him up. And if they do, they'll see the KIA and won't question it. You don't memorize every number of every clone, right?"

Seo Wat nodded. "But the name? Someone will notice."

"Then you tell them that I changed it. You won't be in any trouble. I promise."

Seo Wat looked reluctant.

"Please?" Det said, trying his best to look like he didn't hate Seo Wat.

She sighed and went over to the terminal. "This is only because I didn't agree with his reconditioning. Don't think this is a favour to you."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Det said, smiling.

"What name do you want to give him?"

"Vod," Det said simply. "It means 'brother'."


	7. Chapter 7

A few weeks later...

"No!" Det said in between suffocating laughter. "The Ewok marching band, the Gungan choir, and their band leader would be Taun We!"

The rest of the clones almost fell over each other with laughter. Wookiee was wiping away tears in his eyes.

"That sounds more like a circus act than the most annoying thing in the galaxy," he joked.

Det stood up and grabbed three muja fruits from the various plates on the table. "Or rather," he said, "the most annoying circus act in the galaxy. Can you imagine Taun We?" He started juggling the fruits and comically frowning at each clone at the table. He raised his voice as high as it would go. "Two-Seven! I see your boots are not zipped properly! Reconditioning!"

There was more uproarious laughter from the table.

"Wookiee! Ahem... I mean... Three-One! Your hair is not up to standard! And trim that scraggly beard! Reconditioning!"

More clones were gathering from around the mess hall to see what was so funny. Det dropped two of the fruits back onto their plates, then caught the third in his mouth and took a big bite, spraying juice all down his chin. The juice caught in the stubble of his beard, which he had decided to grow the week before.

One clone was methodically elbowing his way through the crowd, trying to get everyone to move away. He finally made it to the front and was thoroughly out of breath, but he'd wrinkled the two papers he held in his hand.

"I've got a message for CT-8208 and CT-4231," he said.

Det and Wookiee both looked over at the clone and grabbed a paper from his hand.

Wookiee skimmed over the paper. "Squad assignments! For commando teams!"

Det read over his paper. "I picked up yours."

Wookiee tried to read over Det's shoulder, but Det held the paper out of the way.

"What team am I on?" Wookiee asked anxiously.

Det smirked. "Kappa. Bomber's team."

Wookiee did a small victory dance. "Bomber's one of the best."

"Just don't get killed," one of the clones commented, half-joking. "They say Bomber's the most likely to leave you out on the battlefield."

"Well, if I'm dead, I won't care much, will I?" Wookiee pointed out.

Det directed the conversation back to the squad assignments. "What team am I on?"

Wookiee read over the paper. "Gamma."

One clone near the back called out, "That's Prime's team."

Wookiee chuckled. "Good luck to you, Det," he said a bit sarcastically.

Det raised an eyebrow. "Why? What's wrong with Prime?"

One of the clones that was chewing on a muja fruit chimed in. "Prime's team isn't known for being the best, at least not in the sims. He's a bit of a stick in the mud. And I hope you like going over things a hundred times before you get it right. Prime won't let his boys fail a sim, or get it 'good enough'. He strives for perfection, no matter how long it takes."

Wookiee chuckled. "And he can swear like a space pirate with a splinter, too, when you surprise him. And I'd brush up on your Mandalorian. When Prime gets angry, every other word is Mando'a."

A younger clone that had been sitting at the end of the table and was silent until now put in his two credits. "Ma'am."

A silence fell over the group, then was filled in by the din of laughter. Wookiee rested his forehead on the table and held his aching sides.

Det raised an eyebrow. "I think I missed something."

The clone at the end of the table shrugged. "If you're assigned to Gamma squad with Prime, then you'll be training under Ma'am."

"Who's Ma'am?" Det asked.

Wookiee choked back another fit of laughs. "Ma'am is terrifying. She will ambush her own squads, she gets angry for no apparent reason, she almost took of Sergeant Vau's head with a butter knife, and I swear to you she once scared Lama Su so bad, he wet himself."

"You might be better off learning from a Rancor," someone added.

Det glanced around at the group and smirked. "Bring it," he said.


	8. Chapter 8

Det stepped into the sims where the three Gammas were having target practice. He recognized Prime by the red paint on his armour, marking him as leader. He had long hair like Wookie, but no beard. He seemed to be having trouble with his other two squad mates. The other two looked like all the rest of the clones. They were identical, with no distinguishing features besides their armour. The one reloading his deece incorrectly had yellow armour, while the one shooting everything that moved wore green armour.

"Slicer!" Prime yelled, "ammo goes in the _other_ way!"

The clone in yellow armour held up his rifle and inspected it. "Are you sure?" He jammed the ammo in the other way. The deece immediately fired off a stun round that bounced off the wall and hit the green clone in the rear.

"Fierfek!" he shouted, jumping up.

Slicer looked like a boy about to meet a very violent death. "Prime? Don't let him kill me..."

Prime rolled his eyes. "Lurk, don't kill Slicer."

"Yessir," Lurk agreed as he lunged at Slicer.

Prime glanced over his shoulder and saw Det standing there watching with an amused look on his face.

"Ah!" Prime said, getting up. "You must be Oh-Five."

"CT-8105, sir," Det said, snapping his heels and saluting.

"It's _RC_-8105, now, trooper. I'm--"

Prime was suddenly tackled to the floor by a dark haired woman in gold armour. "What have we learned?" the woman asked.

"Always watch my back," Prime answered, wincing at the elbow that was shoved into his spine.

The woman accepted that answer and got off of Prime, leaving him to help himself up.

Prime massaged his neck. "That woman with the wonderful entrance is Rana. We call her Ma'am. The two _diniise_ scrapping on the floor are Lurk and Slicer. And I'm Prime."

"Ow! My ear!" Slicer yelled.

Prime rolled his eyes. "We're not always this disorganized, I promise."

Det just chuckled in response.

Prime folded his arms. "So, I hear you're pretty good with a sniper rifle."

Det nodded. "Any rifle, actually."

"Do you have a name? Something besides Oh-Five?"

Det hesitated only a moment. "My name is Stealth."

Prime held out his hand. "Well, Stealth, welcome to Gamma squad."


End file.
